White Guys Need Not Apply

DEI is not very inclusive, is it?

I suddenly and unexpectedly found myself victim to this particular meme.

Ironically, while out on a walk later in the day, I saw this somewhat reassuring sign.

East of the Canal

A variety of points of interest lay east of the Kansas portion east of J.C. Hopper's Great Interstate Canal.  A slightly different path home offers a new view with every passing.

We slept well with the rain sprinkling over the Grain Bin Inn late overnight.  Looking out the next morning, you could see and smell that it had rained.  The air felt fresh and clean, but the earth remained parched from the summer drought this year.

Ellinwood, host of the annual After Harvest Festival, is but one of numerous little towns that dot the prairie.   Many of them cling to life, celebrating the highlights of their past through murals of more prosperous times.

A little further down the road, the Rice County Courthouse stands immediately and exactly in the center of the county, after beginning life in Atlanta.

The final resting place of this 1910 courthouse is Lyons, Some folks discovered Salt in 1887, while drilling for gas.  Not exactly what Vásquez de Coronado and his expedition were looking for in 1540, though it did enable the first major industry in the county.

Efforts by one of the architects of the Kansas capital building stands firmly in McPherson, showcasing his stonework designs leveraging Cottonwood Cotton limestone quarried just down the street in Strong City. Complete with Syrian arch, the then new 1893 courthouse, in this third and newer county seat, would preside over quieter times than its predecessors.

Before turning north, a break from the road found a one room schoolhouse loitering with a Mennonite Settlement Museum. The Kreutziger School formerly lived in a community by the same name near Canada, Kansas. As water filled the Marion Reservoir it formed an attraction with the museum complex located in Hillsboro.

That is the last thing we remember, just before joining the interstate.  When the drone of that became too much, we detoured again towards Lawrence, drifting off course.  We avoided conflict with the town itself, choosing a position to relax just south of there, near the Blue Mound of our ancestors, at Wells Overlook Park.  It is in a peculiar location, though appears well traveled and is the perfect jumping off point for backroads all the way into the city.

End of the Rainbow Grain Bin

A week that seemingly began under adverse terms had been filled with signs of hope on numerous occasions.  We were fortunate enough to have witnessed about six rainbows, which was about six more than we had seen in the previous six months.  One last showing of hope glowed brilliantly on the morning of our departure, doubling and tripling as we watched in awe.

On our way out of state, we stopped in to visit a registered state historic site known as the Koshare Museum & Trading Post, built by the La Junta Boy Scout troop in 1949.  Hosted by Otero College, the structure is, and remains, the largest self-supported log roof in the entire world, baffling many architects.  Artifacts are currently not on display, due to governmental interference, but the kiva is accessible, along with a multitude of original Native American art works.

There is still very little to note beyond that point.  Lamar offers quite a bit, though the side trip to the museum had consumed any extra time we might have had available.  Time-traveling east into future Kansas, we once again realized how beautifully wide-open it is in this part of the country. 

Ness City made an appearance sooner rather than later.  Storms were brewing all around, apparently forming in our rearview mirror without notice.  Our final destination for the day lay just four miles further east.  Thinking it best to wander those dirt roads in appreciation of daylight, prior to seeking sustenance, we did not linger for long.  Sunset was only 20 minutes away.

The Grain Bin Inn turned out much easier to locate, and on much better maintained dirt roads, than had assumed.  There were concerns about coming rain turning the situation to quagmire, but hunger drove us back into town, after we dumped everything inside.  The Cactus Club offered up a fitting meal to end the day, sending us back to our grain bin without assault from the weather.  Safe and snug inside, we enjoyed good quarters and comfortable evening, while the cattle suffered the downpour, we only heard through the tin roof.

Horsing around the Cañon

A rainbow stretched across the horizon, commending our efforts of the day, though the level of exertion really did not warrant such a fantastic display; or, did it?

The agenda for the day included a little shooting, getting some hairs cut, taking some people photos, and enjoying superior company and good food.  At the end of it all, a run into town for the latter to treat our hosts.  The first point on the agenda became somewhat complicated on the third point of our safety poster, however.  Interference lurked on the horizon.

The wind was the perfect sort of calm for our plans, although the weather man suggested it would not remain that way for much longer.  Attempting to wait out those loitering near the line of fire proved in vain. They were entirely too close for comfort though, so we set off on a mini-Safari to address the issue with those we did "not wish to destroy."

Out at the fence line, they were found amicable and cooperative enough, receiving our greeting with gifts with enthusiasm.  The choice became clear for them, in the course of conversations, that it would be preferable to linger in another space.  Snacks were plentiful and the grass just as green in this location as had been in their previous, so they stayed awhile.  Returning to our objective, we now had clearance to raise a little ruckus, further emphasizing the need, and encouraging them, to find an entirely different plain.

It is surprising how quickly time can pass when you are having fun.  The day seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had started.  Heading into town, I have to admit that I was a little perplexed at why our hosts would want no better dining experience than Doritos.  It seemed like an awfully light meal; at minimum, it seemed not a very diverse opportunity.  Tuning in to the language in use a bit more, Di Rito's turned out a rather pleasant experience in the end.  

Back at the ranch, we speculated as to whether the clouds would accommodate another viewing of Comet Tsuchinshan–Atlas.  Patience finally paid off and we were able to see the celestial body streaking towards the sun again for a few minutes before clouds finally enveloped the entire scene in that direction.  In the opposite corner of the sky, the moon came out loud and clear, shining almost as much light as had encompassed the day hours.  It had been a great day with good peoples.

Up High with Gold and Trolls

Midway through adventuring about Colorado, our hosts surprised us with a different sort of experience, leading to a familiar destination at 4,300 meters above sea level.

A journey to the summit of Pike's Peak by way of the Cog Railway is quite possibly the most interesting method of topping the behemoth named for explorer Zebulon Pike, who just happened to have wandered about the area, though never actually set foot on the mountain.  There is no need for concern about driving off the side or wearing out a perfectly good pair of boots in an effort to reach the top, following this path.

Whilst enjoying amazing views from safely inside the transport, the conductor presented an interesting history of the mountain, the explorer, and the railway.  The entire ordeal only consumed about an hour on this perfectly clear day.  We found things very breezy and the temperature a crips 0 °C on top, discouraging too much lingering outdoors.  Add in another hour to get back down from those heights and then we were on our way to see what sort of sustenance we could discover, among other things.

The plan for the day was really not much different than the previous, excepting one particular destination lying in the vicinity of Cripple Creek and Victor.  Wildlife in these parts can be quite curious, both as an adjective and adverb, often looking at us, looking at them, looking at us, looking at them, etc.

Passing through without incident, we arrived in the golden valley and immediately went in search of the previously mentioned desire.  We literally picked the first thing presented to us, which happened to be The Creek.  It turned out to be an excellent choice.  A Slopper Burger with Red Elk Chili hit the spot perfectly, vanquishing most other desires in that category.

The next thing not on the agenda enabled the opportunity to check up on a local investment.  With an adequate viewing platform properly installed, review of operations came easily, and our noting their continued stability.

That led to a visit with Victor, who seemed to be sporting a fresh coat of paint at every turn.  Construction that had appeared nearly ready to topple at the slightest breath on the last visit, felt renewed and emboldened on this occasion.

One of our crew had read about the existence of a certain Scandanavian entity that had taken on a project near the mines.  Gathering our bearings again, we got closer to another of the intended destinations for the day and made the trek into the nearby hills, where we found her.

Rita the Rock Planter had apparently been napping for quite a long time and upon waking, had gone about setting things straight around her.  Suddenly and unexpectedly, some unknown force turned her entirely to wood and left her frozen in state.

The Marines were called in to consider rescuing the situation but fell short when an I-beam suddenly thrust through their helicopter.  Locked in place at the Mt. Pisgah cemetery, no further efforts were resolved to remedy their circumstances and so they remained.

We departed not wanting to suffer similar fates and escaped mostly unscathed.  We did find it necessary to pause to permit braking to return to full capacity, discovering we had picked up some unwanted materials on those systems.  It all worked out and we arrived back at base camp without issue to enjoy another quiet evening on the eastern Colorado prairie.  The only disappointment for the day, an inability to again admire Comet Tsuchinshan–Atlas crashing towards the sun.